Count On Me
by Kiera777
Summary: What do you get when you transport three HP-crazy girls to the Marauder-era?Love, betrayal, friendship, drama...that's what! The Marauders, especially a certain Black and his younger brother, find out that three of their classmates have been avoiding them like the plague for seven years. And they're determined to find out why.
1. Introducing Me!

**Count On Me**

Summary:

"It's okay guys. No one will know." Kyra took a deep breath. "Lily Evans or any of the Marauders, will never know that they have studied in Hogwarts for seven years with three classmates who do not belong to this world. And it will stay that way." The Marauders, especially a certain Black, in addition to his younger brother, have realized that three of their classmates have been avoiding them like the plague for the last seven years. And they're determined to find out why. A tale of how, sometimes, friendship can be more important than love.

**A/N: Right guys, so this is my new story, one I've worked very hard on, I'd like to add. The story is OC-based no doubt, but our beloved Marauder-era characters are gonna take an entry sooner or later, and be a major part of the story obviously, so don't worry. There are three characters, and I'm going to be writing a chap from their POV each in the following order:**

**Samantha Wilson (Ravenclaw)**

**Kyra de Auvergne (Ravenclaw)**

**Gardenia Lewis (Hufflepuff)**

**Chapter 1.**

_Count on me,_

_Like one, two, three_

_I'll be there._

_And I know when I need it I can,_

_Count on you_

_Like four, three, two_

_And you'll be there_

_That's what friends are supposed to do, oh yeah._

_~Bruno Mars_

_Samantha's POV_

I was not in the best of moods. That is to say, the usual bright, sunflowery, blind-your-eyes kinda smile did not decorate my lips on this particular Saturday morning. Not that I was upset or anything, I just didn't feel my regular self. It could have been a variety of reasons, like the fact that I woke up with bad hair (ok, that happens to me every day. Let me clarify: _really bad _hair). Or the fact that my toast was not drenched with honey and orange marmalade. Or the fact that I had an enormous, no gigantic, no _ginormous_ raspberry jam stain on my robes. Ok, maybe I did have quite a number of good reasons for a bad mood, but the simple fact is that worse problems than these have failed to get me down in the dumps, so being so close to that position is a bit scary.

Kyra, as usual, snidely commented that it was a mercy, seeing that my smile and my yellow-and-black outfit clashed with each other so much as to give her 'brightness overdose', whatever that is supposed to mean. I asked what the hell was she doing sitting at the Hufflepuff table, to which she retorted that she was here to watch the show. Which brings me back to the last and final cause of my worse for the wear mood…

"Playing hard to get is quite out of fashion, huh Lewis?"

In between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables, a showdown was being played. The audience comprised of a number of confused 'Puffs and uncomprehending 'Gryffs who could not even contemplate, let alone understand the meaning and implications of such a face-off. All that their slow minds could process was that the Hogwarts playboy was asking out yet another girl, for yet another tumultuous, gossip-driven two-week affair.

"No."

Oh finally. The students snapped their heads up, realizing that this may not be just another normal day in the lives of the Hogwarts students after all. I, for my part, groaned and put my head on the table. Next to me, Kyra rubbed her hands in excitement and thwacked me on the head, "C'mon, you're missing all the fun!"

"Ow!" I rubbed the back of my head, glaring at Kyra in the process. "Was that necessary?"

Kyra directed one of her 'looks' towards me, "You, my dear, have grown entirely too fond of rhetorical questions." Then she looked forward again, with a mounting pitch of excitement, "Trust me, you don't want to miss this!"

"What's there to miss?" I said, then grimaced as I realised my question _was_, entirely rhetorical. Then I glanced towards the front of the table, "No, seriously! It's just another day in the oh-so-exciting life of Hogwarts students."

Kyra looked at me again, this time with a direct face and deadpanned, "Sarcasm doesn't suit you."

"Thanks for the reminder." I clutched my head in my hands, messing up my bird's-nest of hair even more in the process. "What's so special to this Sunday morning except maybe a new source of gossip?"

Kyra's lips tilted into a mischievous smile, "Is this really the Gossip Queen of Hogwarts talking to me?"

I fixated another glare on Kyra, sharp as daggers. My voice came out as a hiss, "Just because I socialize with people, unlike _you_, doesn't mean I'm a Gossip Queen!"

"Socialize with people, ya right." Kyra's voice was lilting more and more towards a drawl. "More like gossiping at every chance." Then she suddenly snapped her head in front, an expression of frustration flitting across her face, "Damn you Sam! Now stop distracting me and let me listen!"

"-now don't forget, you don't get opportunities like this every day." I turned to hear Sirius Black's half-completed sentence, his voice easily covering the whole of the half-empty Great Hall.

Then my eyes turned to the girl in front of him. Gardenia Lewis was possibly the most gorgeously beautiful girl that had ever walked through the hallways of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At least that was the opinion of Hogwarts's male population, and a small portion of the females who were not jealous of her. Now, I know what you're picturing in your mind's eye: blond hair, blue eyes, tall stature etc etc. Well, you couldn't be more wrong.

Gardenia defied all of those typical stereotypes of the 'perfect ideals' that people conjure up in their minds, which is perhaps the reason why she was so admired. She had long, brown curls…oh wait, no. It would be an injustice to that hair to simply call it brown. It was a strange colour: brown with strands of chestnut, hazel, bronze…I'll suffice to call it a coppery gold which shone like burnished bronze when catching the sunlight, like now. It actually looked different under different settings: chocolate in the dark, auburn under dim candlelight…..damn, I'm rambling. Sorry, I'm kinda obsessed with beautiful hair, being utterly devoid of that one asset. Anyways, Gardenia had long coppery gold curls which cascaded down her shoulders, tall height, a moderately good figure…but her real draw was her face. As once phrased by a love-sick boy, it was 'sculpted to perfection'. Sure, her nose wasn't straight and she had a mole on her left cheek, but all these flaws only managed to lend character to her face, giving her fine features a realistic touch. And her eyes were lovely: a clear, pastel brown, framed by delicate, long lashes.

(Oh, and if you're wondering why the hell is a girl describing another girl's features in such great detail, then curb your dirty minds. I love doing portraits, it's an artistic compulsion).

Anyway, back to the matter at hand: Sirius Black and Gardenia Lewis staring each other down…ok fine, more like Sirius egging Gardenia on cockily, and Gardenia folding her hands together in her best impression of Ice Princess a.k.a Kyra….ok, forget that, I'll tell you about that later.

Sirius cocked his head, a devastating smile playing about his lips, "Why waste your and my time, when we both know what the answer's going to be?" Suave confidence dripped from his every syllable.

"Oh, you do?" Gardenia leaned forward, her voice warm and genial by all means. "I must say you've saved me a great deal of trouble. I was simply dying out of the worry," She swiped a finger over her forehead, wiping off pretend drops of sweat. "Over how I was going to break the news that _the_ Sirius Black has been rejected." Gardenia's eyes flashed. "Glad to see you've taken the news so well."

"Ouch." I winced. Next to me, Kyra could barely sit straight on the bench. Her voice was vibrating with suppressed excitement and amusement, "Strike one."

The smile on Sirius's face however, did not dim in the slightest. In fact, his grin got even broader, "And I'm glad to see that my to-be girlfriend has such a good sense of humour."

Gardenia tsked, "Sirius, I know you're not really used to rejection, but that doesn't mean that you'll grow delusional out of sorrow." Gardenia adopted a concerned expression. "It isn't healthy."

I flinched again. Kyra burst out with a chuckle, her eyes bright with glee, "Str-strike two."

I think it finally began penetrating Sirius's brain that Gardenia was serious about the whole 'rejection' thing after all. His wide grin transformed, until it gave way to an intense look directed at Gardenia, "Ok, let's cut out the jokes. You know you're not going to find anyone better than me here, " Sirius gestured towards the Great Hall, half of the students inhabiting it watching him with wide-open jaws. Sirius took a step forward towards Gardenia, his eyes glowing intensely, "So accept it already and make it official." He laid out his hand, gentleman-style, in front of Gardenia.

Gardenia paused for a minute. For every second that passed, the self-assured look in Sirius's eyes grew and it seemed the whole population of the Hall was fixated upon Gardenia's face. Gardenia looked up, and smiled. The triumphant smirk of victory etched itself on Sirius's face, as he proffered his hand even further.

"Quite presumptuous of you." Gardenia's voice came, soft but clear. Sirius looked at her, confused, but Gardenia continued, "Now, since your mind obviously can't understand a one-syllabled word, '_No_', I suggest you waste your time with someone else." Gardenia then paused, her tone as sweet as honey, "Oh, but you needn't be disheartened! We can always be friends! Or…" Ignoring the proffered arm, Gardenia slung an arm over Sirius's shoulder. "What about siblings? I'm sure you'd _love _a new sister. Right, Sirius?"

If Sirius did not have such amazing control over his facial features, then his jaw would have been hanging open by now. Ignoring Sirius's, for the lack of a word, shocked expression, Gardenia withdrew her arm and turned to walk away, "See ya later, bro!"

However, only after taking a few steps away, Gardenia stopped. She turned back her head, pushing away one of the stray bronze curls from her face, not even a trace of the sugar-sweet smile left on her face or in her voice, "By the way, I would do away with the fake confidence if I were you. If you really were that sure, then you wouldn't have asked me on a Saturday morning, " Gardenia gestured towards the half-empty Great Hall. "when half of the students are in their beds.

Sirius stared on. Gardenia smiled challengingly, "So, a piece of advice. Ditch the attitude. It doesn't work anymore." And with that parting shot, she walked down the aisle between the tables.

I groaned, my head falling on the table with a thump. Kyra's smirk knew no bounds, "Strike three and game over."

As Gardenia walked past the tables, students stared at her with alternated awe and jealousy. Some even looked outraged (fangirls duh) and some guys seemed to be on the verge of fainting. The untouchable girl continued walking, the focus of everyone's attention, and took the seat beside me.

Kyra practically beamed at Gardenia, "Gardenia Lewis, you might have finally made me proud."

Much to Kyra's chagrin, Gardenia ignored her completely and turned towards me. Instead of the smug smile that most would have expected, Gardenia looked weary, with a tinge of guilt, "I overdid it, didn't I?"

"Of course you didn't!" Kyra exclaimed. "He had it coming for him!"

Gardenia was still looking at me. I shifted awkwardly, "Uh, a simple 'no' would have sufficed."

Gardenia turned back, watching Sirius walk back to the Gryffindor table, the guilt in her face a bit more pronounced. I viewed this with satisfaction, then suddenly let out a yelp, as Kyra elbowed me in the ribs, pushing me to the side. I turned and scowled at her, but Kyra was too busy, yanking Gardenia's shoulder, resulting in Gardenia's startled face turning towards her.

I sighed, foreseeing no way for salvaging the ship now that Kyra had taken over the mast. You see, Kyra was a master 'persuader', if such a word even exists, and once she set her mind on something, or someone, she could persuade the person to do almost anything. In fact, Kyra could probably even convince someone to adopt the Giant Squid, if she set her time and energies on it. She had that mature, I-know-what-I'm-saying air about her that irresistibly influenced you to the belief that she was always right.

Right now, she had that same 'look' on her face, her voice strong and pressing, "Look Gardenia, you only did what was right. Firstly, you don't like Sirius. Secondly, even if you did like him, you know the risk. You _know _it." Kyra's voice was forceful, her words impossible to deny, "If it had been anyone else in the place of Sirius, it might have been possible but…"

"Of course, I know that Kyra." Gardenia spoke, her finger twirling around a bronze lock of hair. "There wasn't a question of saying yes. But I could have been more gentle…"

"If you had been more gentle, then it wouldn't have penetrated Black's thick skull." Kyra said, a logical, reasonable tone to her voice. "You saw him yourself. He wasn't ready to accept that you were rejecting him. If you hadn't been as harsh as you were, then it wouldn't have made an impact."

"But Sam said…."

"Sam is an idiot." Kyra said it as if it brooked no arguments.

"Hey!" I protested indignantly.

Kyra gave me her own specialized, patented glare which could have a number of translations. Right now, it undoubtedly meant keep-your-idiotic-mouth-shut.

Kyra turned back to Gardenia, "Look, there's nothing we can do now and…."

"Wait!" I interrupted Kyra mid-speech. She turned to glower at me, a look which I reciprocated full force. "You can't just tell Gardenia what to do!"

"And you can?" Kyra raised an eyebrow.

I sputtered for a second, then regained both my coherence and confidence, "Of course I can!" I jutted my chin out. "Seeing that I'm the only one with a heart here!"

"If having a heart means feeling sympathetic to every _jerk_ here," Kyra said the word 'jerk' with particular distaste. "Then yes Samantha Wilson, you're definitely the only one with a heart here."

I could feel the tip of my nose grow red, the way it does every time I get into my argumentative mood. And Kyra's perfectly sarcastic tone could bring it on like nothing else, "But…"

"Enough guys." Gardenia played peacemaker, her voice calm but firm. "Let's get going, shall we?"

Kyra got up and walked out of the Hall, Gardenia following closely behind. I sighed, then made my way out of the Hall. Gardenia and Kyra were walking a few steps ahead, proceeding towards the moving staircases. I sped up into a run and fell into step beside them, taking my position in the middle as usual. Kyra glanced right towards me, "Fine?"

I smiled at her. She asked me that every single time she saw the danger alert a.k.a my red nose, "Yup."

Wait, I've probably told you all the world's most uninteresting facts about Kyra but not the way she looks. Oops. Okay, let me rectify my mistake. Kyra, Kyra, Kyra, Kyra….hmm….let me begin with the basics. Kyra had short, black hair: with long midnight bangs that covered the whole of her forehead and swept just above her dark eyes. Kyra was the fairest of us three, with sharp, clear-cut, defined features; and the highlight of her face was her eyes, dark and sparkling. I think the poet who first said, 'Eyes are the windows to the soul" must have been inspired by Kyra, for her eyes laid open her emotions for the world to see: the spark of amusement, the gleam of interest or the glint of anger.

So, I guess Kyra would be called attractive by the general public, not drawing admiring glances, but certainly warranting a second look. But for people who saw her every day, like the way she constantly had to push her bangs to the side of her head, or the way she smiled when she saw something pretty, or when she stared off into the distance, lost in thought, they would call her beautiful.

And I. Poor, poor I. People would think, stuck with best friends such as these, I would probably be another charming, unpolished gem. Not my luck. Now, when I am in my self-loving, satisfied mood (which is ninety percent of the time), I could probably go on and on about the undiscovered beauty that was Samantha Wilson. But unfortunately, I'm not in that mood right now. So all I can do is whine about my mismatched features. You see people, I had shoulder-length, wavy (a.k.a uncontrollable) dark blonde hair, average face, wide mouth and broad face. And my eyes, oh yes. Can you guess what this blonde's eyes could be? Not blue, oh no. Not even green. And definitely not a nice, tolerable grey. My eyes were _brown_. Yes people, you're reading that right, I'm a blonde with _brown _eyes. I have seen many people rant on and on about how that's a genetic impossibility, happens one in a thousand children blah blah blah….and all I have to do is point towards my face to shut them up. And how could I forget my height? I'm seventeen, and I'm still a five foot three. Urgh.

Okay, I admit, it's not like no one has ever found me good-looking before. I've often had the word 'pretty' applied to describe me. And the same afore-mentioned love-sick boy (remember, the one who said Gardenia's face was sculpted to perfection?) has said and I quote, 'Her smile could light up a thousand suns.' My brown eyes and blond hair, when you ignore the combo, were pretty good by themselves and I had the pride of my life: my shining, dazzling teeth.

Gardenia jerked me out of my reverie by elbowing me in the ribs, hard. I shot a glare at her, then realized she was gesturing significantly towards something, her eyebrows arched high. I followed the direction of her gaze, then saw a flash of red atop the staircase currently moving towards our floor. Ignoring Kyra, me and Gardenia exchanged a look, and waited for the stairs to grate to a stop. The moment it did so, Lily Evans, Gryffindor muggleborn extraordinaire descended down the steps and walked towards us.

"Hi Sam!" Lily's smile exuded pure warmth. Her green eyes glowed brightly, "Good to see you."

"Nice to see you too, Lily." My smile was equally warm. "Studied a lot over the summer hols, I bet?"

"What do you expect, we have NEWT's this year!" Lily's eyes then flitted over to Gardenia, her tone polite, "Hello Gardenia."

"Hello Lily." The exchange between the two acquiesced polite relations between two fellow classmates, and nothing else. Then Lily's emerald stare moved to Kyra.

I caught Gardenia's gaze, and witnessed in it the same apprehension that was flickering in mine. We both knew what was going on in each other's heads:

_Three…. two…. one._

Lily spoke, a smile on her face, "Nice to meet you after so long, Kyra."

"Yeah." Kyra replied. "Long time no see."

Lily adjusted the collar of her shirt underneath her robes. To anyone else, it appeared to be a normal, casual action but Kyra's eyes gleamed slightly on seeing it. A soft smile played around her lips, if you could call that expression a smile, "No need to try so hard, Lily. I can see your badge perfectly well."

I groaned mentally. I shot Gardenia a wearied look, to see her reciprocate the same.

Lily, however, seemed perfectly at ease. Her voice was deceptively light, "Well, I'm wearing a badge, so it's obviously for the purpose of showing."

Kyra didn't speak, simply standing there with an air that indicated that she was waiting for Lily to say something more. With a slightly more awkward air than before, and along with it a touch of smugness, Lily spoke again, "I've been made Head Girl."

"Oh really." Kyra raised an eyebrow, her voice sardonic . "I had _no_ idea. I thought the original Head Girl had given you that badge," she gestured to the badge pinned up on Lily's tie, "for polishing."

I watched Lily's jaw clench, more than aware myself of how Kyra's sarcastic voice could get on your nerves. Lily's voice was sharp as a dagger, "Why Kyra? Jealous?"

"Of course not Lily." A nonchalant smile decorated Kyra's lips. "I'm simply ecstatic for you."

"Yes." Lily took a step forward, staring Kyra down, "The post of Head Girl after all, is given to the _best _female student at Hogwarts." There was a strange note to Lily's voice when she said 'best', almost like she was relishing it.

Kyra's eyes flashed. "I'm sure of that. After all, you are the most capable," Kyra started ticking off her fingers, a derisive glint to her dark eyes, "hardworking, sincere, dedicated and _definitely _the most responsible girl to ever set foot in Hogwarts." I don't know how she did it, but the way Kyra's tongue lazily rolled over the words, she managed to make each one of them sound like an insult.

Lily looked unfazed. "You forgot intelligent."

"Ah, I'm sorry Lily," It was now Kyra's turn to take a step forward, "But I'm afraid that'll have to be me."

"And how did you come to that conclusion?" Lily arched a brow.

"Because you see," Kyra looked like she was trying to explain two plus two equals four to a very small child, "I have been notching higher marks than you in all most all subjects, thus naturally being able to lay claim to the label of the most intelligent student in Hogwarts. Actually, I think no one else deserves the Head Girl badge more than you, Lily," Kyra sounded thoughtful. "After all, you do deserve a consolation prize for your efforts to beat me all these years."

Kyra passed a shocked Lily and walked up the flight of stairs. A moment later, me and Gardenia followed, the flight of steps setting into motion and rising up. For a minute , silence reigned in the hall, except for the distinct groaning of the aged wooden steps.

Then Gardenia' voice came, soft and quiet, "You haven't beaten her in every subject. Certainly not Potions and Herbology. And definitely not every year."

Kyra stared ahead, unconcerned, "I beat her in the OWL's."

It was my turn to speak. "And she beat you last year."

"Well, the NEWT's are still left, aren't they?" As the staircase came to a grinding halt, Kyra stepped out on the next floor, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the long corridor.

I brought up the rear, while Gardenia walked briskly after her, "I thought you told me only some time ago not to get involved with the important people. That it was too risky."

Kyra turned around abruptly, "It's not like I'm becoming best friends with Lily Evans, am I?"

"I thought you were aware." Gardenia's voice was quiet. "That people tend to remember enemies more than friends."

"We're not enemies." Kyra turned to look off into the distance. "Just rivals."

I stepped into the argument, "Big difference."

"It's okay guys. No one will know." Kyra's voice was firm. She took a deep breath, her eyes unfocused on the faraway ceiling, "Lily Evans, or any of the Marauders, will never know that they have studied in Hogwarts for seven years with three classmates who do not belong to this world. And," Kyra paused, "It's going to stay that way."

**A/N: If you liked it, please, please review. It's a sincere request!**


	2. Pleasant Meetings Or Maybe Not

**A/N: From the number of favourites and alerts, I can understand that you guys like the story, but why no reviews people? C'mon, I know you guys can do it!**

**Chapter 2.**

_Kyra's POV_

"We have McGonagall now." Gardenia twirled a finger around her bronze curl. "Hopefully she's loosened up a bit over the hols."

I shot her an incredulous look, "You're kidding right? The day McGonagall loosens up, is the day Severus Snape and James Potter become best friends. In other words, impossible."

Sam, standing next to me, yawned. "Well, at least it doesn't hurt to hope."

I turned towards Sam, a disapproving look on my face, "You, Samantha Wilson, are far more optimistic than it is healthy to be."

"See you guys then." Gardenia turned her back, muttering exhaustedly, "Bloody double Transfiguration on first day of classes."

"Atleast be happy it's a half day." I smiled at the back of my best friend. "Oh and Garden, watch your language."

Gardenia groaned. "Don't call me that."

"Why?" I tilted my head curiously. "It's not my fault that your name doesn't shorten favourably."

Gardenia turned around completely, her tone indignant and sarcastic all at once, "Not your fault? Really?"

I couldn't quite repress the laughter in my voice, "But I thought you liked the name 'Gardenia'. You told me so yourself."

"In _third _grade!" All the sarcasm had drained out of Gardenia's voice, leaving pure indignation.

"What's your problem anyway?" I arched an eyebrow inquisitively. "Gardenia is a perfectly lovely name."

"Of course it's not!" Gardenia seemed scandalized at the suggestion. "It is so… so…." She cast around for an appropriate word, "So _Barbie_!" A disgusted expression overcame her face.

My innocent smile really wasn't fooling anyone, not with the smirk trying to peek through, "I thought you liked Barbies."

"Again, I repeat, in _third _grade!" Gardenia's outraged expression clearly showed that she couldn't quite see the humour in the situation that was so very entertaining to me. Pity.

Gardenia whipped around and started walking away. I called after her, "Wait up, take this idiot with you!" I turned towards Sam, who was practically dozing beside me, and slapped her head upside, my palm making a satisfying whacking sound against her hard head.

"Argh!" Sam yelled. She rubbed the back of her head hard, and glowered at me through half-closed lids, "Do you always have to do that?"

"If you insist on visiting la-la land while standing in the middle of the corridor, then the answer will have to be yes." I smiled sweetly at her. "Garden is going for Transfiguration. Go to the common room and change into your proper uniform please."

Sam scowled at me, but was too sleepy to do anything more, trailing after Gardenia who had already reached the end of the corridor. I smiled lightly, leaning my back against the cold stone wall of the corridor, my eyes still lingering on the back of my messy blonde-haired best friend. She was wearing a bright yellow shirt, with her standard black Hogwarts robe draped on top, an outfit that I had 'fondly' christened her 'Hufflepuff uniform'. Yes, that's right folks, in spite of all arguments to the contrary, Sam was, _is_, not a Hufflepuff. She, by some mysterious united conspiracy of the heavens and the Sorting Hat, managed to land up in Ravenclaw along with me. A bitter injustice really, considering her sunny disposition when she's not half-asleep and that the Hufflepuff yellow-and-black colour scheme suits her much more than the Ravenclaw blue-and-bronze. Or maybe it's just my own skewed jealousy over the fact that Sam can actually carry off such colours with élan, unlike me.

Disregarding blonde best friends and their strange outfit choices, I withdrew my copy of the school schedule from my satchel and perused it briefly. Today was a Saturday, the school having started on September 1st, a Friday. Thus, the first day of classes was a half-day, luckily or unluckily depending upon the mindset of the student in consideration. For me, it was definitely luckily because though I earned good marks, I did it for my own prestige and self-pride, rather than from any particular fondness for study.

The start-of-classes bell suddenly clanged, and I started, the shrill sound resonating through all the corridors, rooms and hallways of Hogwarts. I peered down at my schedule, in no actual hurry as I had a free period the first class of the day. A single Charms period was next, which I actually looked forward to, then a Herbology class: dirty, but tolerable, then a late lunch. Then a single Arithmancy class in the afternoon. Not a bad first day of classes.

I was just contemplating the different syllabi that we would be starting today, when I heard heavy, trudging footsteps. Looking up, I saw Sam returning: complete with white shirt, black robe, shoes and socks and blue-and-bronze tie. She approached my side and tiredly ran a finger through her tamed locks, looking relatively fresher and less sleepy.

I smiled, "Our first NEWT class awaits."

I clasped my head in my hands, my index finger constantly rubbing against the side of my forehead, a barely disguised irritated look taking pride of place on my face. Next to me, Sam was chatting animatedly with some fifth year Gryffindor, gesturing wildly and laughing away to glory. At least that was what Sam was doing. The girl on the other hand…

I grimaced as a particularly high-pitched shriek was emitted from the girl's lipstick-red mouth. I glared at the girl, then at Sam, but none of them appeared to get a hint. I tapped Sam on the shoulder, but she continued chatting uninterrupted, not even pausing a second. My eyebrow wrinkled, as I rapped Sam harder, but she appeared to be lost in her own world.

_Desperate times call for desperate measures. _For barely a second, the irritated expression on my face was replaced by a smirk. Then, I quietly positioned my open hand behind Sam's constantly moving head, and smacked her head for the third time today.

"Ow!" Sam rubbed the back of her head in an increasingly familiar motion, brown eyes watering. The Gryffindor girl stared at me with a curled lip, her obnoxious lipstick standing out even more.

Sam twirled around, clutching her head, glare full power, "What the heck is wrong is you?"

"We were supposed to go to the library, if you remember." My tone was light. "Not hanging around gossiping with people deficient in brain processes."

It took a good few minutes for the Gryffindor girl to realize she was being insulted. "Excuse me?"

I winced, her shrill voice grating on my years. The girl took a step forward, her voice demanding, "Are you trying to say that I'm dumb?"

_Ah, thank God. At least she got that point._ I turned towards her and smiled politely, "Of course not. I think you're positively the _most_ intelligent and intellectual person I've ever had the misfortune to meet."

The girl frowned a bit, as if puzzling over the meaning of misfortune, and then nodded importantly and turned towards Sam again, her chin in the air.

I mentally facepalmed. _Merlin, what the hell is the use of perfect sarcasm if the person you use it on doesn't even get it?_

Sam, however, seemed to get the clue, and decided to drag me out of the scene before the girl could actually understand what misfortune meant. She smiled quickly at the girl, "Uh Arabella ….I actually have to go to the library, so…see you later." She grabbed my hand, and before I could know it, we were both out of the hallway.

Sam turned to me, panting, "Merlin Kyra, can't you tune it down even for a minute?"

I put a perfectly innocent look on my face, "What did I do?"

Sam clapped a hand to her forehead, "Urgh, never mind. We were going to the library weren't we?"

At that very instant, the bell clanged loudly, making Sam jump and me glare. "Yes, we were going to the library and I daresay we would have reached there if you," I poked Sam hard in the shoulder, "had not stopped gazillion times to gossip in the hallways with gazillion people."

"I did no-" Sam opened her mouth again, probably to justify herself, but I interrupted her mid-word, "We have Charms now, so if you'll _please _do me a favour and keep your mouth shut until we reach class."

I turned and practically started stomping down the corridor, but not fast enough to miss Sam's words, accompanied by a glower, "Just coz you're allergic to people, doesn't mean that I have to swear off company for the rest of my life."

"I'm not allergic to people." I swung my satchel over my shoulder. "Just don't like associating with a set of chimpanzees disguised as human beings."

"And you think that apart from you, all other people fall into that category?" Sam fell into step beside me.

"Of course not." I turned and smiled towards Sam. "I think Gardenia is quite human-esque."

Jabs and light banter filling our conversation, Sam and I finally reached the corridor outside the Charms classroom. The corridor was crowded, more than half of the students taking NEWT Charms already standing outside the class, waiting for the Charms Professor. Sam immediately turned and started gossiping, _again_, with some random Hufflepuff. I sighed, then leant against the wall, closing my eyes, waiting for the familiar squeaky voice of Professor Flitwick to come and herd all the students into the class.

A familiar voice reached my ears, but not that of Professor Flitwick. I opened my eyes to see Gardenia standing in front of me, hand on her hip. I blinked once, "I thought you had Double Transfiguration now?"

"I did, but McGonagall sent me here to give this note to Professor Flitwick." Gardenia waved a white sheet of paper in front of my face.

"So…taken to following me, have you Lewis?" A loud, distinctly male voice echoed in the corridor. Gardenia and I started simultaneously, then turned our heads.

Hands in pockets, head tilted, arrogantly posed, the sight of a smirking Sirius Black met our gaze. Standing next to him was a bespectacled, hazel-eyed, messy-haired James Potter, looking on the scene with interest. A few paces behind, a pale-faced sandy-haired Remus Lupin had a 'not again' look on his face, while standing beside Lupin ,a mousy-haired, short statured Peter Pettigrew's rat eyes gleamed with curiosity. I sighed mentally. _The infamous Marauders._

Gardenia seemed unrattled by the sudden onslaught of attention of some of the most popular guys of Hogwarts. She took a step forward, and the crowd in the corridor moved to the sides, putting her face to face with Sirius. "I may not have taken to following you around Black, but you've certainly taken to channeling your best friend." Gardenia cast a glance on Potter.

The crowd assembled of students snickered, I joining them with no hesitation. Potter flushed lightly. The way James Potter madly pursued Lily Evans ever since fifth year was no secret to any of the Hogwarts students.

Sirius's eyes flashed. The light jab at his best friend was obviously not appreciated. He stepped forwards, inches away from Gardenia, staring her eye to eye. When Sirius spoke, his voice was carelessly haughty, "By the way Lewis, I had a question about the offer you made at breakfast today."

Gardenia wrinkled her eyebrow in confusion, "What offer?"

Sirius smiled. The light from the nearby window built into the corridor wall, shone off his shaggy black hair, framing his face with an unachievable elegance. Then Sirius spoke, with a kind of casual nonchalance that it would have taken years of practice to pull off, "About you becoming my new sister." For a second, a breathtaking smirk lingered around Sirius's lips, "I didn't know you were into incest. I don't mind though."

I twitched. By the way Gardenia's face was hardening, she probably had a sharp retort to that saucy remark. But that last statement was too much of an invitation, or a temptation, whatever you call it. I just couldn't resist myself.

"Seeing that you're a Black, I'm not surprised." The heads of the crowd turned, their attention rapidly shifting from Gardenia and Sirius at the centre, to the new entry in the argument. Sirius's eyes flicked towards me, as I stepped beside Gardenia and cleared my throat slightly, "After all, its public knowledge that the entire Black family was born out of incest."

I could see a muscle twitching in Sirius's tight jaw. Again, it was no secret that Sirius Black hated his parents and family, and would rather die than be associated with anything to do with the Blacks. James Potter laid a hand on Sirius's shoulder and glared at me. After Sirius left his family, he had started living with the Potters and James considered him no less than his blood-brother. Behind the two, Remus Lupin was now watching the scene with narrowed eyes, while Pettigrew appeared as excited for the show as ever.

Sirius took another step forward, this time towards me, and regarded me with cold eyes, "And you would be…." Sirius paused for a second, "Auvergne, right?"

I smiled back at him, "The one and the only."

"You shouldn't be one to talk." Sirius's tone was misleadingly casual. "After all, I hear the Auvergne family is also a pureblooded one."

"Ah, but nothing compared to the Blacks. _Toujurs_ _Pur_, right?" I indolently enunciated each syllable of the Latin phrase, which I knew was the Black family motto.

Sirius's eyes grew colder. James stirred restlessly beside him, clearly showing his desire to enter into the argument. The crowd was murmuring uneasily, Sam had long since given up her conversation with the Hufflepuff and was now watching us apprehensively. I felt Gardenia tug slightly on my arm. The meaning was clear. The jabs Gardenia and Sirius had traded at breakfast were relatively light, but I was treading dangerous ground.

"Is there something wrong here?" The students as a whole started, then turned their heads simultaneously. Professor Flitwick was standing at the head of the corridor, pale eyes flicking sternly from me, to Gardenia, to Sirius and James, and then back to me.

Everything was silent for a minute. Then Gardenia stepped up to Professor Flitwick and handed him the note, "Professor McGonagall asked me to give this to you." And then, she was gone.

Professor Flitwick surveyed the students assembled in the corridor. "In the classroom everyone."

Sirius cast me a last cold stare, then walked inside the classroom. James Potter's glare was a bit more heated, but he followed his best friend's example and walked into the classroom without saying a word. Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew followed. As the entire crowd of students lumbered into the class slowly, I sighed and followed their lead.

Sam was already at the back of the class, sitting in the second last row. I trudged back and flopped into the empty seat next to her, dumping my satchel on the table. Professor Flitwick entered last of all, and then clapped his hands briefly as the murmuring class quieted down.

"Good morning students." Professor Flitiwick's squeaky voice greeted. He was new, having just replaced Professor Donovan who retired from his post last year. "Welcome to your first NEWT Charms class. First of all, I would request all of you to get up and reseat yourself according to the NEWT seating arrangements."

Sam gave me a forlorn look, as I sighed and got up from my seat, many other students around us doing the same. The NEWT seating arrangements was nothing but sitting with our last names in alphabetical order. I plodded to the front, and threw down my satchel in the first seat of the first row, slumping down in the seat. Sometimes, I really despised my last name.

_Abbott is in Hufflepuff with Gardenia, so she's in Transfiguration right now. And there's no one else in our year with last names starting with 'A'. So that means my seating partner would be…_

I jumped, startled out of my reverie, as someone tossed a satchel on the next table, and flung himself into the seat next to mine. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see shaggy black hair and stormy grey eyes.

_Crap._

Sirius Black forcefully withdrew his Standard Book of Spells Grade 7 from his bag and banged it on the table. He started flipping the pages, grey eyes focused on his book, not even flitting in the slightest towards me.

I sat frozen for a second, and then slowly, started scooting towards the left, hopefully unobserved. I moved, inch by inch, bit by bit, slowly….slowly….

"Miss Auvergne, can you please sit straight and open your book?"

I jumped, startled by Professor Flitwick's voice, bumping my knee against the table leg, almost falling off the chair in the process. I heard a snicker from somewhere behind me, undoubtedly courtesy of Mister James Potter. I cursed under my breath, then rubbed my knee frantically. I got up, and sat straight in the chair, intent on not making physical contact with Black next to me. God knows what kind of insane guy germs I could catch…

A carton full of feathers, hovering in the air, came to rest beside me. I unconsciously picked two feathers, and the carton moved on to the next row. All of a sudden, I realized Sirius's outstretched palm was in front of my eyes. I gingerly dropped one feather onto his open palm, and turned back to my satchel.

"I don't have a contagious disease you know." Sirius's voice was quiet, and calm. And undeniably directed towards me.

I blinked rapidly, then placed my feather on the table, withdrawing my own book from the satchel, "Can't take your word for that."

Sirius made a tiny noise of amusement. I gritted my teeth. It was strange really, how easily I could insult Black and hit a nerve, when we were standing apart from one another in the corridor. But now, with him sitting only a few inches away from me….my mouth seemed strangely sealed.

You see, Sam wasn't entirely wrong when she said that I was allergic to people. Well, not people really, but more like the male species. I don't like associating with guys more than general classmates, and it's a completely conscious decision. Maybe it's because of the secret the three of us have to keep, or the fact that guys are always on the scent for something-more-than-friends, or maybe just simply coz guys are jerks. Don't get me wrong, I'm quite straight, but the fact is that none of the three of us can afford any kind of relationships with guys as long as we are in this world. And I take that fact a little more seriously than the other two. So, ever since I joined Hogwarts at eleven, guys have been off-limits to me. Even as friends.

During my little reverie, Professor Fliwick had demonstrated to the class on how to duplicate the feather. Being more than familiar with the spell (infiltrating the Ministry, Deathly Hallows) I waved my wand twice, and ended it with a short flick and jab, "_Geminio._"

As good as new, a new feather separated itself out from the original, the two lying on the table as identical twins. I immediately turned my head and scanned the class for a familiar redhead. Lily Evans was sitting a couple of seats behind me, and a single feather lay on her desk. I smiled triumphantly at her, for it was rare that I could do a spell in this class before Lily-I'm-a-bloody-prodigy-at-Charms-Evans, even if it was because she had gotten her feather later than I had. Ignoring her hard look, I turned back to my table, smiling in satisfaction.

"You hate Evans, don't you?" Sirius was not as blind as to miss the interaction between me and Lily. He was now looking at me, all coldness vanished, with something almost like interest.

"No." My eyes were fixed on the book in front of me, yet I could hear a truthful answer leaving my lips. "We're rivals, not enemies."

"Speaking of enemies, I think you should know that you're our next prank target." Sirius spoke, leaving me with no doubt as to who the word 'our' referred to. I couldn't help but wince slightly. Once the Marauders singled out someone, the person was equivalent to dead. Or at least his reputation was.

"Why the sudden onset of information?" I still kept my eyes on the book.

Sirius smiled. "Thought you deserved an equal and fair chance to avoid public humiliation, embarrassment, mortification etc etc. Not that we're gonna spare you."

"Your concern is appreciated, Montmorency." I glanced at my watch. Still fifteen minutes to go for the bell to ring.

A puzzled look overcame Sirius's face. "You talk weirdly. And who the heck is Montmo- what?"

I inwardly rolled my eyes. _I can understand if people don't get it when I quote 'Anne of Green Gables'. But seriously, not even understanding a 'Three Men in a Boat' reference? That has to be one of the most famous comic classes ever! And who on this earth doesn't know about Montmorency? Okay…..maybe quite a few don't know. But still! He is one of the most famous dogs in the history of literature!_

I remained mum throughout class, and even Sirius gave up after the Montmorency question. Finally, after a long, agonizing fifteen minute wait, the bell rang. I packed my bag, thanking God and Merlin and every other deity out there inwardly a million times, and hurried out of the classroom.

"Hey Auvergne!" I turned, mentally cursing every deity I had just been praying to, as Sirius ran out of class. He stood there in front of me, the ever-ready cocky smirk on his lips, eyes sparkling, "Get ready to be humiliated."

I couldn't resist myself. Again.

"Bring it on, Monty."

**A/N: Never forget: Review!**


	3. Facts Discovered

**Chapter** **3.**

_Gardenia's POV_

The light banners fluttered in the morning breeze, creating a flapping sound that was barely undistinguishable from the whistling wind. The sun shone bright and clear, shooting gold rays over dew-studded emerald grass, making the dewdrops sparkle like multifaceted diamonds. The sky was a pale, washed-out blue, looking for all the world as if it had been just been back from a visit to the laundry. Feathery wisps of white cloud dotted the sky, hardly managing to cloak the cerulean expanse. It was a perfect day. For Quidditch.

I breathed in the morning air, inhaling lungfuls of cold, fresh air. There was a nip to the wind that brought a degree of chill to the sunny morning, but considering the fact that it was October, the day was as warm as any. The Pitch was filled with hopefuls eager to be inducted into the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, along with their brothers, sisters, relatives, friends and all other people as distantly related to them as possible. What can I say? Hufflepuff is a very….familial house. Which by the way, is the understatement of the year.

I cast an appraising eye on the bunch that had dared to sign up their names for induction to the team. They looked….no better than the usual batch. Sure, there were a couple of lean, athletic-looking people that perhaps could fulfill the requirements, but I wasn't eager to get my hopes up. I withdrew my wand from my robes and cast a Sonorus Charm on my throat.

"Anyone below fourth year, please leave the Pitch." There were a number of grumblings after my statement, but what can I do? I am the Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain, after all. And our team has only two vacant spots. I know, I know, there might just be some revolutionary, super-talented second or third year who might blow every one away, but seeing that I had yet to encounter such a wonder child since being given the Captain's badge in fifth year, I was not very optimistic. Of course that might have to do with the fact that I'm not a very optimistic person by nature, but I was ready to sacrifice a few wonder children for the sake of getting a couple of decent players for the team and finishing the tryout in less than a day.

Now, back to the present. I was standing on the Pitch, staring at atleast forty hopefuls staring right back at me. A couple still looked a bit too short to be fourth year or above, but maybe they were just cheeky third years who had enough guts to try and fool me. Or maybe they were genetically mutated. Oh never mind. I think it's time to begin.

I put the whistle hanging from my neck to my mouth, and blew a short, ringing blast. Immediately the hopefuls fell into a file, the foremost ten mounting their brooms. I smiled in approval. It seemed like this group had been to a few tryouts in the earlier years. I blew a second blast, and the group of ten took to the air.

I turned to a short, curly-haired boy next to me. "Maurice, tell Dorcas to release the Snitch." Then I looked around me, "Where's Ray?"

The curly-haired boy- Maurice, blushed. I needed no more eloquent answer.

"He didn't come yet, did he?" Maurice mutely shook his head to my demanding question. I felt my lip curl in irritation, "One of these days I'm going to kick him off the team."

"Uh….Gardenia…." Almost as if too shy to interrupt me, Maurice raised his hand as if asking a question in class. I resisted the urge to mentally aw. "I…..I think…he's here."

I turned towards the direction Maurice was quietly pointing. Sure enough, I could see gelled-up, dark hair in the distance, more specifically at the entrance of the Pitch. I pursed my mouth, "Tell him to get his ass on his broom, and score against the hopefuls for Keeper."

Maurice flushed again, though this time probably because of the A-word. He turned and practically ran towards the entrance, his curly hair flopping all over the place. I smiled at the sight, then started as someone placed a hand on my shoulder, "You called?"

I swirled around to see a tall, blue-eyed brunette smiling at me. I sighed, "Dorcas, thank god. Release the Snitch, would you?"

"Done, Captain." Dorcas Meadows smiled back at me. Then she looked back at the sky, scanning the current flyers with her eyes, "So, what do you think about this year's batch?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Till now, tolerable. I don't care about who fills the Keeper position much frankly, but I do want a good Seeker. Hufflepuff's been lacking one for a long time."

A worried expression decorated Dorcas's face. "I released the Snitch ten minutes ago. And there are at least five people looking for it, in bright sunlight. No one's caught it yet. I don't think this year's Seeker is gonna be much good."

"Fingers crossed." Imitating Dorcas, I too looked up into the sky. My gaze swerved to the hoops, where someone was guarding the posts and a figure, adorned with a mop of gelled black hair was swerving in a loose semicircle before the hoops. After a few more circles, the figure swung his arm and let go of the large red Quaffle. The Keeper hopeful lunged, and missed it by a good few centimetres.

Next to me, Dorcas winced, "Ouch. Even I would have been able to save that."

"Really?" I directed a teasing glance towards Dorcas. "Both of us know that your hands are of no use except for swinging a bat."

"True." Dorcas laughed.

"But anyway, jokes aside, you're right." My gaze took on a concerned tinge. "This keeper isn't much good at all. And the rest," My eyes swerved to the remaining hopefuls hovering in the air a few metres away, "Don't look very promising."

"You're the expert." Dorcas had a frown creasing her eyebrows. "We just need a good Seeker. After winning the Cup after two decades, we're not going to give it up so easily."

The thought of the bright, golden Quidditch Cup gleaming in the Hufflepuff Head's office, made my face automatically brighten up. I couldn't help but grin widely, "Last year's win was something spectacular, wasn't it?"

"You bet. All courtesy of our beloved Captain." Dorcas doffed an imaginary hat towards me, smiling mischievously.

I smiled, slightly embarrassed. "The Captain's only as good as her team."

"Yes, definitely. But it certainly helps that the Captain is currently the best Chaser in school." Dorcas said, almost in an admiring fashion. "Actually, probably the best Chaser in England."

I was definitely embarrassed now. I ducked my head slightly, "I'm not that good."

"Pshaw." Dorcas waved a hand, ignoring my statement. "On your worst day, you can score atleast ten goals against any Keeper in this school. You are in a totally different league compared to all the school Chasers, and they know it."

My smile was as embarrassed as it could get, and my mouth was sealed. Obviously. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to say? _I'm the best Quidditch player in school and I know it?_ There are so many things _wrong_ with that statement that I can't even start trying to correct them. Not to mention of course that it is such a typically Kyra thing to say.

After the first round of hopefuls, I eliminated a good few and then started them on a second round. Then a third. And a fourth. By the time a fifth round came about, there were only two people left in contention for the Keeper position: a thin, scrawny fifth-year guy and a tall sixth-year girl. Both Dorcas and I were drenched in sweat, simply by standing in the sun alone, and the stands were absolutely clear of people, either because their known-one wasn't selected, or because it was getting a bit _too _hot for an October day. Dorcas brushed her knuckle over a drop of perspiration trickling down her brow, "Just pick Taylor already, will you?"

I scrunched my brows in confusion, my eyes fixated on the three figures flying in the sky at present, "Why? The fifth-year guy, whatever his name is, seems to be better."

Dorcas made a scoffing sound. "Yes. Provided he can shift his eyes away from you for more than five seconds of course."

I winced. It was true though. The guy was Keeping well, but Ray was managing to score much more on him than possible. "Yeah…he's distracted…..but it can't be because of me, right?" I asked in an almost hopeful voice.

Just at that moment, Ray swung his arm sideways, flinging the Quaffle at high speed towards the centre hoop. The guy's head was turned, rather suspiciously now that I think about it, towards me and Dorcas standing on the ground. The Quaffle headed straight towards his motionless figure on his broomstick, and literally _bounced_ off his head.

I flinched, my tongue caught between my teeth, releasing a hissing sound automatically. Dorcas next to me raised her right hand almost as if to cover her eyes, but then changed her mind halfway. "Need anymore proof?"

I sighed despondently. "If I really were not to accept any guys who aren't the least interested in me, I'd have to ditch Ray and Maurice too." My expression turned almost, _almost_ sulky. "Bugger."

Dorcas's eyes widened a bit. "Ray was dropping hints since Day 1, but how did you guess about Maurice?" Her air turned slightly defensive on the oh-really look I was shooting her right now. "What? You are kinda oblivious."

I shifted my gaze, looking at Maurice packing away the Quidditch balls in the crate. He ran a hand through his curly hair, then looked up to see me staring at him. His cheeks turned a beetroot red immediately. I smiled almost fondly, "It is rather obvious, isn't it? Even if he is the younger brother I never had."

"Poor Maurice." There was something rather teasing about Dorcas's manner, and she turned defensive again on my reproachful glare. "What? You're calling him a younger brother here and there, the kid fancies you! You do know that you're his first crush, right? And definitely his first heartbreak?"

"Hopefully not." I exhaled. My tone turned from casual to authoritative. "Anyway, tell Taylor she's been selected as the new Hufflepuff Keeper. I'm off for a breath of fresh air." The broomstick, which had been turning sweaty in my grip for so long, now vibrated as if ready to show the world what it was capable of. I whispered to it in my mind: _Relax. Soon._

I swung a leg over my brightly-polished Cleansweep, its straight, long bristles extending from behind my robe. Behind me, Dorcas put a hand on my shoulder, almost as if seeking reassurance one last time, "We are going to win again this time, aren't we?"

_I was hurriedly shoveling food into my mouth at the breakfast table. I glanced at the watch on my wrist, then started practically inhaling my food. It was only ten minutes until the Hufflepuff Quidditch tryouts. So absorbed was I in my food that I started horribly when someone tapped me on my shoulder._

"_What the he-" I jumped in my place, only to see Kyra's sharp-featured face smirking down at me. I scowled at her, then resumed pouring food down my throat. Kyra laughed, "It doesn't suit the Heartthrob of Hogwarts to eat food in such an 'undignified' fashion." Her voice imitated the prissy squeak of a pureblood spinster._

"_Shut up." My voice came out muffled due to the unnecessary clogging of my mouth cavity with food. I cleared my throat, "What the heck are you doing at the 'Puff table? With just minutes left before the tryouts?"_

"_Just one minute actually." Kyra corrected me with a mischievous grin. "Anyways, I was just here to warn the 'enemy' captain of a few facts about myself." _

_I widened my eyes mockingly, "Really? Do tell. I'm absolutely, "I drew a cross over my heart, "Dying to know."_

_An extremely familiar, proud, almost haughty smirk lingered around Kyra's lips. She slung an arm over my shoulder in a patronizing fashion, "You see, my dear Garden, I am like my blood group."_

_I cocked an eyebrow. "Let me guess." I shot her a you're-going-down look. "B positive even in the face of certain defeat and humiliation?"_

"_Wrong." Kyra didn't even bat an eyelid at my response. In fact her expression grew even more proud. "A plus. The best. In everything."_

"Gardenia? You still there?" Dorcas waved a hand in front of my unfocused eyes. I blinked, rapidly drawn out of my thoughts of today morning, then realized that Dorcas was still waiting for an answer. "Well? Do you think we can win?"

I stayed silent for a minute. Then, all of a sudden, I kicked off hard from the ground, shooting up into the sky in a burst of speed. I swerved my broom sharply, turning almost one eighty degrees and looked down at Dorcas, her hair gone wild by the sudden wind that my kick-off produced, and a hanging jaw. But a few seconds later, a brilliant smile dawned on her features. I think she understood my answer.

I flew off, in my mind atleast, towards the horizon. After all, where a broom and I were concerned, the sky was the limit. My lips were pulled into a half-smile, half-smirk, an expression which now that I thought about it, rather resembled the one on Kyra's face.

The smirk on my face grew wider. _You're not going to be A+ at everything, Kyra. At least not while I can help it._

_3__rd__ person POV_

Sirius Black was irritated. As in speak-a-word-to-me-and-I'll-hex-your-face-off kind of irritated. What else do you expect? Here he had this absolutely, stupendously mind-blowing idea to humiliate Auvergne and Lewis, and his best friend wasn't here to hear it? Preposterous, I tell you! What is this world coming to?

Sirius darted into an alcove at the junction of the corridors on third and fourth year, and quickly thrust a hand into his robes, withdrawing a shining, new piece of parchment. He rapidly tapped his wand on the parchment, murmuring a phrase under his breath and watched raptly as thin, spindly lines of ink started spreading on the parchment. Moments later, Sirius had the map of Hogwarts in his hand, delineating the position of every single wizard and witch present in school at the moment.

Sirius let out a soft whoop of joy on _finally_ locating James Potter on the map. Then his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. What the hell was James doing in the Quidditch pitch stands? Weren't the Hufflepuff Quidditch tryouts taking place right now?

"Bloody hell James…" Sirius muttered, as he walked into the entrance of the Quidditch Pitch, or correction, snuck into the pitch. He was right, the Hufflepuff tryouts _were _taking place….he could see Lewis's highly distinguishable bronzed hair glinting in the sunlight even from this distance. Making sure not to be spotted, Sirius crept on tiptoe towards the nearest stand, the rubber soles of his trainers squelching softly in the mud. Scrambling up on the elevated stand, he ran up the creaky wooden steps, stinking with years of accumulated dust and sweat in the air, reaching the highest story of the stands. Glancing down at the parchment, Sirius quietly tiptoed to the front row of the stands, right at the end of the bench, and slapped his hand in thin air.

"BLOODY HELL!"

James's yell was loud enough probably to echo for miles around the Quidditch Pitch. Sirius jumped at the sound, then slapped his hand over James's mouth, placed on a messy-haired head hovering in mid-air, "Shut up Prongs! Do you want us to get caught or what?"

James's head gave Sirius a venomous look. Then a disembodied hand swept out of nowhere, caught a good hold of Sirius's collar and yanked him under a cloak. After a quickly muffled, "Hey!", Sirius found himself under the Potter Invisibility Cloak, sitting on a bench in the Quidditch stands with his best mate staring daggers at him.

James's scowl would probably leave permanent wrinkles on his face, that was how deep it was, "Did you have to snoop up on me like that?"

The look on Sirius's face was a combination of mischief and indignation, "You're the one wearing the Invisibility Cloak!"

A drop of defensiveness seeped into James's scowl. His tone was as accusative as ever, "So? I was concentrated in watching the tryouts!"

"Speaking of tryouts," Sirius's expression attained a touch of curiosity, "What the hell are you doing watching the Hufflepuff tryouts anyway? Or," Sirius adopted a scandalized voice, " Don't tell me you're planning to switch houses! Hufflepuff, Prongs? Really? Could you really find nothing better?"

"Shut up." James hit Sirius's shoulder, hard, ignoring Sirius's cry of, "That hurt!". He continued talking as if nothing had happened, "Just wanted to check out the opposition."

Sirius laid a hand on James's shoulder. "Inspite of your utter disregard for your best mate's pain, I understand." Both knew how deeply last year's loss in the Quidditch finals against Hufflepuff had affected each other, especially James being the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. For someone accustomed to victory, it wasn't easy to accept defeat.

There was silence for a few moments, both Sirius and James waiting for each other to crumble. Then finally James conceded, covering his face with his hands, his tone almost whining, "How the heck did we lose? _How_? In the finals? Against Hufflepuff of all people? _Hufflepuff_?"

"If it's any consolation, they had the best Chaser in probably a century playing on their side." Sirius knew he was doing a shit job of consoling when he himself was quite tempted to hit Gardenia Lewis's head with his Beater's bat at the moment. Though that would ruin her gorgeous face. What a pity.

"Forget it. Just let it be." James seemed to be trying to get a hold on himself. Sirius commended him for the effort. "Let's concentrate on what we're really here for. To defeat our opponents once and for all." James's face was as grim as a warrior walking into battle.

Sirius was tempted to point out that that was what James was here for, not him. Speaking of which, what was he here for in the first place? Oh yeah, the plan of complete humiliation! "Listen Prongs, I had just gotten this amazing idea for a prank…."

"No Pads." James looked at him sternly. "Quidditch is more important than pranks. Now," James held up three fingers of his right hand. "Our opponents for this year. First," James ticked a finger off. "Slytherin. Good Beaters, pathetic Chasers, a non-existent Keeper and a good Seeker."

Sirius tightened slightly on the mention of his brother. James continued on, ticking off another finger. "Ravenclaw. Good Keeper, mediocre Beaters and Chasers…."

"Davies's sister is entering in Chaser position this year." reminded Sirius.

"Mediocre Chasers with one possible good one." amended James. "Good Seeker."

"Don't forget the Seeker's plays." Sirius scuffed a piece of lint of his robes. "Auvergne's Quidditch plays are as good as another player. And as effective."

James nodded his hand in assent, and ticked off the last finger. "Hufflepuff. Tolerable Keeper, Beaters and two Chasers. Not so good Seeker. One mind-blowing, professional league Chaser." James sighed at the last one.

"It'll be easiest to get rid of Slytherin, even if they play dirty." Sirius yawned openly, though attractively. "Their team has plunged down ever since Malfoy graduated. We can beat them."

"Provided your brother doesn't catch the Snitch before us." James added.

A nerve in Sirius's jaw twitched imperceptibly, "Provided. Anyway, Ravenclaw will be more difficult to defeat. Their Seeker is good and Davies is difficult to score against. It'll be a challenge to score enough points in time."

"And you never know when they'll come up with one of their wonky strategies." James scratched his brow. "And totally mess up ours."

"Hufflepuff of course, are the current champions." Sirius tried his best to keep bitterness out of the word 'champion', he really did. Doesn't matter whether he succeeded or not. "Both our team Seekers aren't that good. It all depends on Chasers. Only if someone can even get the Quaffle away from Lewis of course."

At that statement, both the seventh-year Gryffindors's eyes swerved to the figure flying in the pitch. The utter grace and skill of technique was unmistakable. She looked like she was probably born on a broomstick.

James admitted the truth first, again. "We're doomed."

"Hey Moony." Sirius slumped into the armchair next to Remus, stretching out and yawning widely. Remus raised his eyes from the book he was reading, and looked at the still-in-mid-yawn Sirius, and James who had just flopped across him on a chair, "Where were you two?"

"Strategizing against our opponents." James dropped his head on the head-rest of the chair, rubbing his eyes rapidly with his knuckles.

Remus, who was used to James's war commando-like language before a Quidditch match, raised an eyebrow, "But the first match of the season is Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff, right?"

"Yeah." Sirius broke into yet another yawn. "And Lewis is going to demolish the Ravenclaw Chasers as usual."

"Not if the Raven Seeker comes up with some other weird strategy again." After intensive rubbing, James's eyes were incredibly red. "What was her name again?"

"Auvergne." Sirius's mind flew back to the last Charms class. "Now that's one weird bird."

"Speaking of weird Pads, why the hell are you talking like Moony again?" James looked at Sirius in confusion, his tone questioning. "You know, using words like 'demolish' and all? It's starting to freak me out."

"You can't expect me to hang around Moony for seven years and not learn _something_." Sirius slung an arm around Remus, whose eyes had returned to the book. "Right Remy-poo?"

"Shut up Sirius." Remus said it like he had repeated these words every day in seven years.

"Oh, oh, wait a minute, I just remembered!" Sirius lit up with a grin like a thousand-watt bulb. "I just came up with this awesome prank to humiliate Auvergne…"

"Auvergne?" James's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "That Raven bird? Why?"

Sirius shrugged. "Coz she said I was born out of incest and no one insults Sirius Black."

"You know Pads, it is kind of true." Remus flipped the next page of the book. "You can't fault her for that."

"I know. But still." Sirius grinned again. "We can't miss out on a new prank victim. Add to that she's just plain weird."

Sirius's mind rewinded to Charms class again. The look on Auvergne's face when he came to sit with her….like she'd rather be scalded in burning oil. The way she scooted away from him, and stumbled on her words…like she didn't even want to breathe the same air as him. Come to think of it, apart from parting insults, Sirius didn't think he'd ever talked to her before. For people studying in the same class for seven years, that was strange. Very strange.

Sirius tried to remember a time when he had talked to her best bud, Lewis. Maybe he'd get a clue as to why Auvergne was acting this way. He thought hard…and came up with nothing. A flirting comment here and there, but never a proper conversation. Even stranger.

Then Sirius thought about her other best bud, Samantha Wilson. Social Queen of Hogwarts. There wasn't a person in Hogwarts she didn't talk to. He tried to remember a previous conversation. Came up with…..nothing.

Sirius suddenly shot up from his armchair, eyes bright. James let out a yelp of shock and almost fell off his chair. Remus simply looked at him curiously.

Sirius felt like he had just had an epiphany. His thoughts were racing faster than the speed of light, as he rounded on James and asked in a voice trembling with excitement, "Can you ever remember a time when you've talked, _properly_, to either Lewis, Auvergne or Wilson? Any time?"

James scrunched up his brows in confusion. He replied slowly, almost measuring his words, "Not really. A hello or a good bye here and there. Nothing more." His gaze grew suspicious. "Why?"

Without answering, Sirius turned to Remus, "Have you?"

"No." Remus answered surely. "Why?"

"That means…that means…." Sirius started pacing about the empty common room, the cogs of his brain whirring rapidly. He turned to face the curious faces of James and Remus, "Don't you find it strange that for seven years, the six of us have been in the same class and never talked to each other? Never had a proper conversation? It's not like they're Slytherins. And they aren't shy either. Auvergne answers in class quite often and she's got a bloody rivalry with Evans, Lewis is the heartthrob of Hogwarts, and Wilson is the bloody Social Queen. But they've never talked properly to us, the Marauders. Don't you think it's too much of a coincidence?"

After finishing his rant, Sirius was flushed, and breathing heavily. He shone with the pride of his discovery. Sirius turned to look at his best mates's, no doubt with gaping jaws and shocked faces, over-awed at his superior brain-processes. What he found was a smile lingering around James's lips and Remus looking with him with something like pity. Huh?

"Sirius." Remus began slowly, as if afraid to overload Sirius's puny brain with facts beyond his understanding. "You mean to tell me that you never knew? That you realized it just now?"

Sirius was well aware of the fact that at the moment, his expression resembled that of a gaping fish. "Wha-? Y-y-you mean you guys knew already?"

"Pads." James still had that irritating, patronizing smile on his face. "What on earth did you think we were doing when we were following around Lewis, Auvergne and Wilson in fifth year?"

"Uh…..I dunno." Sirius scratched his head slightly. "I thought Moony had a crush on Wilson."

Remus practically spluttered. Sirius was glad that it at least erased the pitying look on his face. "What! Have you lost it or something? Why the hell would I….I mean…uh….." Remus trailed off, realizing he was making no sense. For perhaps the first time in his life.

"Forget it." James waved a hand. "Why do we care anyway if a bunch of girls don't talk to us? I mean," A familiar cocky smirk adorned James's face. "We _are _the Marauders."

"Yeah." agreed Sirius absently, sitting back down on his armchair. At the back of his head, there was a whirlwind of thoughts. Remus returned to his book, still a little red in the face, and James started narrating Quidditch plays to the common room fireplace. Everything seemed back to normal. Except for one thing.

Sirius was thinking. Hard.

.

.

.

.

No seriously, I'm not kidding.

_It's not just about a bunch of girls not talking to us. _Sirius's thoughts were running quick and fast. _There's something deeper to it. I don't care if James and Remus already knew about this. I'm going to find out._

A smirk started dawning on Sirius's face. _And I know exactly where to begin._


	4. I Hate You

Chapter 4.

_Samantha's POV_

"And you wouldn't believe it, I actually saw them in Hogsmeade!"

"You're kidding me." I leaned forward in interest, my eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Puddifoots?"

"Uh uh." Arabella shook her head in the negative. She put a hand on her hip, her lips curling up in a smirk, "Shrieking Shack. A lot more _private _than that Madam Puddifoot's café if you ask me."

"Well duh." An auburn-haired girl sitting beside me flipped her hair. "They didn't want anyone to _disturb _them."

All the girls at the table broke out into giggles at that one, me included, though I'd like to believe mine sounded more like a laugh than a squeal. I gasped for breath, smiling widely, "Did you see them leaving?"

"No. And that's the interesting part." Arabella leaned forward, her voice lowering into a whisper as if to impart a secret. The rest of us leaned closer to listen, "I waited outside for at least forty-five minutes. And they _still _hadn't come out."

My eyes widened, the rest of the girls either gasped or giggled. All of a sudden, we heard the sharp clicking of footsteps as we turned our heads, and saw the librarian glaring at us, her voice venomous and reprimanding, "This is a library. Not a place to giggle and squeal. Keep your voices down."

"Sorry." I addressed her apologetically. But the scowl was permanently affixed to her face, and she simply nodded tersely and walked down the aisle, out of our sights.

The moment the librarian was gone, Arabella yawned and examined her nails, her voice the epitome of I-don't-give-a-damn, "Bloody hag. Bet she hasn't got any action for ages."

The girls nodded their agreement. I remained silent. I hadn't got any problem with the librarian, she was only doing her job. It was at times like these that I didn't like Arabella, she was nice and generous enough, but had a terrible attitude towards authority.

I suddenly realized that Arabella had started speaking already, I gave myself an internal jerk and directed my attention to her words, "-and of course he had to interrupt them. I mean, typical really."

I wrinkled an eyebrow, "Who are you talking about?"

Arabella looked at me as if I lived on Mars. "James Potter, duh! A bloody idiot if you ask me." Her tone was acidly contemptuous.

"He isn't that bad, Arabella." A blue-eyed Hufflepuff sitting opposite me said earnestly. She fluttered her lashes, "He looks absolutely _dreamy_ on a broom."

"And his hair!" The auburn-haired girl sighed. "Absolute murder, I tell you."

Arabella snorted angrily. "Ya right. Even Pettigrew looks better than that _Potter_." Her tongue twisted over his name, like she would like to do nothing better than strangle Potter with her bare hands.

"Relax, Belle." I placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Different people, different opinions."

Arabella snorted angrily again, but didn't say anything. All the girls seated round the smooth, wooden library table shot looks at her, but knew better than to open their mouths. It was well known to every member of the Hogwarts population that after 'The Incident', Arabella hated the guts of James Potter. In fact, the only one in school who could rival her hatred was probably Lily Evans. After all, 'The Incident' included her as well. I mean, what else do you expect? Arabella Montefiore, one of the most popular and good-looking seventh-year Gryffindor girls, asked James Potter out publicly, and what did he do? Went on and on about how she couldn't compare herself to Lily Evans, in front of the said girl, and rejected her. Arabella has been dreaming of disemboweling his intestines ever since.

Personally, I felt Arabella was a bit of an idiot. Quite more than a bit actually. Everyone knows that Potter is head over heels over Evans, and you ask him out publicly? That's equivalent to social suicide. Not to mention the fact that Potter and Evans are the to-be parents of the Saviour of the World. But of course that is a piece of information only me and my best friends are privy to.

"Wait a minute." I started slightly on Arabella's loud voice breaking through my reverie. She turned on me with a demanding look, her eyes hard and sharp, "You said different people have different opinions. What's yours then? What do _you_ think about James Potter?"

"Uh." I suddenly felt extremely awkward. All the girls were looking at me curiously, as if their lives depended on my opinion of James Potter. I scratched my head nervously, "You know me, Belle. I don't hate anyone."

"I never said anything about hating him." Arabella pressed me further. "I just want to know your opinion of him."

"Besides," The auburn-haired girl suddenly struck into the conversation. "I've seen you talking to everyone, like _everyone_. But I've never seen you hang around with the Marauders. Do you have a problem with them or something?"

My mouth was slightly dry. _Shit_. The girls I was sitting with weren't the brightest fruits in the basket. But they were shrewd, and looking at their gimlet-like eyes and sharp sneers, if I said one word that didn't fit into the puzzle, then the word would be all over Hogwarts by dinner-time.

_They know that the three of us don't associate with the Marauders, even if they don't know that we actively avoid them. And they won't believe me if I say it is just a coincidence. Damn my 'I'm-friends-with-everyone' reputation!_

"Actually…..uh….." I started hesitantly, well aware of the girls's inquisitive stares pinned on me. All of a sudden, a light-bulb went off in my head, "I despise the Marauders."

The eyes fixed on me widened simultaneously. Arabella's voice was the loudest among the chorus, "What?!"

The words started escaping from my mouth in a rush, before I could run out of inspiration, "They disgust me. I hate the way they talk, the way they strut through school as if they own it. The way they prank and humiliate the people they don't like, the way they bully people weaker than them. They think they're the kings of school, they don't give a damn for the rules. They think they're so superior to everyone else, like no one is worthy to breathe the same air as them. I hate it. I hate all of it."

The girls stared at me, enthralled, as if they had never heard such…_revolutionary _statements against the Marauders before. I glowed with pride on my acting prowess. For a minute, everything was silent, the girls staring at me in an awestruck way, and I basking in their gaze.

Then the auburn-haired girl spoke, haltingly, her voice sounding as if she was struck with wonder, "But it's you. _You_. You're friends with _everybody_. You're like, the perfect epitome of what a Hufflepuff, a true one, is supposed to be."

"Hello-o?" I inserted. "I'm a Ravenclaw, remember?" _I really need to stop sitting at Gardenia's table._

"Still." The auburn-haired girl waved me off as if what I had said was just a minor technicality. "Basically, you're really, _really _nice. And you hate the _Marauders_?"

"Well duh." My voice was gaining more and more confidence by the minute. "They're nothing more than pathetic worms with blown-up egos." _Wow, that sounded __**so**__ cool…_

"Wait a minute…." The blue-eyed Hufflepuff girl spoke as if she was having the greatest difficulty of her life trying to comprehend my words. "You mean to say that….that…you hate even _Sirius Black_?" She stared at me, wide-eyed, as if the whole world would collapse if someone had the audacity to hate Sirius Black.

A derisive smirk decorated my face. "That pasty-faced git?"

The Hufflepuff girl gasped. The others looked at me, scandalized, but admiring at the same time. I continued, smug expression in place, "Sirius Black is nothing else but a spoiled brat. He's dumb, and all he has to speak for him are his looks and his bloodline, nothing else. He says he hates being a Black? Ya right." I scoffed contemptuously. "His whole existence revolves around the arrogance of being a Black. He's heartless, and cold, and doesn't give a damn about anyone."

The girls were looking at me as if they had never seen me before. In a way, they were right. They _had _never seen a harsh, bitching Samantha Wilson before. I smiled inwardly. _This is easier than I thought._

Arabella's eyes were wide. "Do you hate James Potter too?" In her voice, I could clearly hear the hope that she might finally find a partner in her vendetta against Potter.

_Wish granted. _"Of course. He might even be worse than that Black." I casually examined my nails like I had seen many queen-bitches in movies do. I could see the over-awed look in the girls's eyes grow, my acting was clearly working. I felt like pumping my fist in triumph. "The only things he can see are his broomstick, his pranks, and his ego. In fact, I think that's the only reason he's been chasing after Lily Evans for so long. His ego can't take the fact that someone actually rejected him."

The girls hummed in agreement. The blue-eyed girl spoke up next, her eyes glowing in idol-worship. Towards _me_. "But Lupin isn't that bad, is he? I mean, he never teases or makes fun of anyone, and always helps other people."

"Yeah." My tone was absolutely disinterested and condescending. "He's just a poor old soul in a bad crowd. I think the only reason why Potter and Black keep him around is…" I paused for dramatic effect. The girls leaned forward in interest.

"For completing their homework and getting them out of trouble." I finished with a flourish. "I mean, look at Potter and Black, and look at Lupin. Why the hell would they want someone like _Lupin_ around? I bet they don't give a bloody shit about him." I completed it disdainfully, contempt colouring every single word.

All of a sudden, I realised that the girls were absolutely, utterly quiet. Much like a discerning audience after the performance by an orchestra, waiting to deliver judgement. My show was over. Now was the time to see if it had actually fooled anyone.

Arabella opened her mouth to speak. I freaked out.

_ShitshitshitshitImessedevery thingupnoweveryonesgonnafind outandkillmeandImdeaddeaddea ddea-_

"I didn't know you had such…intense feelings against the Marauders."

_Deaddeaddeadeaddea-…wait a minute, what?_

Noticing my almost catatonic state out of pure shock, Arabella repeated, somewhat uneasily, "I said, I didn't know you had such intense feelings against the Marauders."

The first words that came to my frozen mind escaped out from my mouth, "I didn't know that you knew the meaning of intense."

Arabella's eyes narrowed, "What?"

"Nothing." I shook my head to clear my thoughts and smiled quickly. Inside, my heart was leaping with relief and elation.

"Anyways, we have Divination now." All of a sudden, Arabella quickly stood up, grabbing the strap of her satchel lying on the library table and swinging it over her shoulder. Her sudden move caused all the other girls to stir, many of them murmuring excuses as they too took their satchels and got ready to leave.

Arabella stood there, shifting from one foot to another, clearly trying to figure out a way to bid me farewell. I was mildly surprised to see Arabella looking so uncomfortable, as unlike herself as possible. The atmosphere was undeniably awkward. Maybe because Arabella and the rest of them were so used to dealing with an ever-pleasant, fun and genial Samantha Wilson that they found themselves out of place dealing with my new avatar. _Ooh. New avatar. I likey._

"I…..uh….see you later Sam." Apparently Arabella chose to make the farewell short and hurried. She flashed me a quick, uneasy smile and turned on her heels to make her way out of the library. The other girls followed suit, throwing me highly obvious secretive looks over their shoulders. Minutes later, the library was silent again.

I reclined on my chair, placing my hands under my head. Now it was simply a matter of time, waiting for the news to make its way through the Hogwarts grapevine. By dinner, everyone should be talking about the legendary hatred that Sam Friends-With-Everyone Wilson, possessed for the Marauders. My rep would definitely take a blow, but if it maintained my, oops sorry, _our_ secret, then I really couldn't care less.

But in spite of my cool thoughts, I still allowed myself to stare at the ceiling and wonder unabashedly for five minutes. _I can't believe it worked_.

SAMGARDENIAKYRASAMGARDENIAKY RASAMGARDENIAKYRASA

_3__rd__ person POV_

_Scratch. Scratch. Scratch scratch scratch._

_Only two minutes more. _Remus promised himself. _Just a small, measly two minutes._

Regardless, Remus's quill went on scratching over the parchment for at least another hour.

Wait, wait, wait a minute. Backtrack. Let's rewind to the beginning.

Remus Lupin a.k.a. Moony, seventh-year, Gryffindor Prefect, Marauder, werewolf-extraordinaire, and last but definitely not the least, best friend of James Potter and Sirius Black, was sitting in the library, bent over his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay, feverishly scribbling line after line on the parchment. Considering the fact however that Remus's scribbles looked better than most people's best calligraphy, I guess you could say that Remus Lupin was stooped over a library table, writing very, very fast on a never-ending Defense essay.

You see, Remus wasn't really an over-achiever. Nor was he a know-it-all. Intelligent yes, but not eager to flaunt it. People would call him downright humble actually. But the fact was Remus really, _really_ liked Defence. He could sit occupied with it for hours. Far somewhere in the distant future, Remus could imagine himself sitting behind a desk, grading papers, with a gleaming plaque in front of him: _Remus J. Lupin, DADA Professor._

Anyway, back to the present. Remus was sitting in some vague, stuffy corner of the Hogwarts library, quill poised over parchment, finally ready to begin the concluding paragraph of his five and a half foot long essay. Remus massaged his aching hand, then quickly dipped the quill in the indigo ink to finally, _finally _end his Defence essay.

_Thus vampires are undoubtedly not the romanticized immortal heroes portrayed in novels, nor the bloodsucking creatures as the deluded Wizarding populace believes. _Remus paused all of a sudden, considered the last line, then scratched it out. His distaste for the prejudices of the 'deluded Wizarding populace" was a bit too obvious here. An essay was supposed to be unprejudiced…..

_Unlike the Wizarding populace, _thought Remus viciously.

….diplomatic, and unbiased. And that was exactly what Remus's essay was going to be. The beginnings of a sentence stirred in Remus's mind, and just as he was about to put quill to parchment again, a feared sound dreaded by all frequenters of the Hogwarts Library echoed through its aisles.

Giggles.

Remus's eyebrow twitched. By the sounds of it, the tittering group of girls were headed in his direction. And sure enough, the sound of heels was heard not too long after, the girls settling in the table right next to Remus's, the groaning sound of ancient, wooden chairs being drawn out accompanied by constant giggling and chattering. There was a tall, even more ancient bookshelf loaded with heavy dusty tomes separating the two aisles, blocking Remus from their sight but allowing him to clearly listen on to their conversation as if they were sitting just beside him.

Remus however, was unperturbed. Being best friends with Sirius and James (and Peter sometimes) had its advantages, a major one being the capability to tune out unwanted voices. Hence, with well-practiced ease, Remus simply tuned out the girls' voices and proceeded on with his essay.

_Vampires are hence not subject to all the generalisations which people have a tendency to impose upon them. They are completely…_ Remus scratched his chin and pondered on a suitable word. Just as the phrase niggling at the back of his head was about to spout forth from his quill, there came a word, spoken by a loud and female voice from the adjacent table, that took hisconcentration and dashed it into small, minute pieces.

"James Potter."

As the name of his best friend drifted into his ear, Remus found himself listening to the next part of the conversation in spite of himself, "A bloody idiot if you ask me."

Remus snorted. Well, he couldn't argue with that one.

A typically girly, chirpy voice next reached his ears, "He isn't that bad, Arabella." Then a sigh. "He looks absolutely _dreamy_ on a broom."

Arabella…Montefiore? Oh, that would definitely explain the tone of hatred, mused Remus. He had really wanted to whack James over the head for that one. There were times when Remus questioned James' extent of dunderheaded-ness, and his own sanity for befriending someone like James, and the whole incident involving Montefiore was certainly one of them.

"And his hair!" The voice that came next sounded on the verge of fainting. "Absolute murder, I tell you."

Oh yes, James was definitely in love with his hair, if you recorded the number of times his hand ran through it in one day. And everyone else around him belonging to the female species seemed to be in love with it too. Except Lily Evans, whom he actually wanted to impress with his hair. Remus smiled. Oh, the irony.

"Ya right. Even Pettigrew looks better than that _Potter_." It was easy to imagine what kind of images were running through Montefiore's head, all involving gruesome torture instruments and a very dead James Potter.

But Remus had to wince at the words. True, Remus did not try to lie to himself about the fact that Peter was not that close a friend of his as James and Sirius, but he was still incredibly guilty about it. Peter may not be….uh, easy on the eyes, but he was still one of the few people who accepted Remus for who, or rather what he was. And he could never forget that.

Then, another voice came, and all of Remus's thoughts flew out of the window. The voice was distinctly female, and had a strange quality to it that all of Remus's developed vocabulary could not describe. It was strangely earnest, and musical in a way like she was singing poetry rather than speaking words, "Relax Belle. Different people, different opinions."

Remus found himself trying to recognise that voice. It certainly sounded familiar, but it was unusually difficult to place, especially unusual for someone with a memory like him. Then Remus gave himself a mental shake. He was here to complete his Defence essay, not to contemplate the voices of random girls. He picked up his quill once more.

Then Montefiore's voice came and Remus's concentration flew out of the window yet again, "Wait a minute. You said different people have different opinions. What's yours then? What do _you_ think about James Potter?"

Remus realised that the girl with the musical voice was being addressed, and he found himself raising his head from his parchment in spite of himself. The voice was unsure and hesitant, with a barely-there undercurrent of uneasiness. "Uh…you know me, Belle. I don't hate anyone."

Montefiore's voice came again, sharp and demanding. "I never said anything about hating him. I just want to know your opinion of him."

Then another voice butted in. "Besides, I've seen you talk to everyone, like _everyone_. But I've never seen you hang around with the Marauders. Do you have a problem with them or something?"

Remus's eyebrows furrowed of their own accord. This heard-by-mistake conversation was getting stranger and stranger by the moment. And then again, Remus reminded himself, why on earth was he even interested? Snooping into other's matters was the work of James and Sirius, not his. Maybe they were rubbing off on him.

_Vampires are hence not subject to all the generalisations which people have a tendency to impose upon them. They are completely blameless as regards to accusations about them losing total control under bloodlust and…_

"I despise the Marauders."

Remus's head jerked up as his eyes widened slightly in surprise. _Did I just hear what I think I heard?_

Montefiore seemed to have the same thoughts running through her head, as did all the other girls, "What?"

The voice seemed rushed now, with an under note of determination and what seemed like revulsion, "They disgust me. I hate the way they talk, the way they strut through school as if they own it. The way they prank and humiliate the people they don't like, the way they bully people weaker than them. They think they're the kings of school, they don't give a damn for the rules. They think they're so superior to everyone else, like no one is worthy to breathe the same air as them. I hate it. I hate all of it."

Remus realised that he had stopped breathing for a few seconds. The girl's voice was echoing in his head. James and Sirius were pranksters, yes. Arrogant, yes. Bullies sometime, yes. But superior?

_Is that really what the whole school thinks of us?_

There was a minute of complete silence, like even the biggest gossips of the school were stunned at what they had just heard. Then a voice hesitantly spoke, "But it's you. _You_. You're friends with _everybody_. You're like, the perfect epitome of what a Hufflepuff, a true one, is supposed to be."

_This is…a Hufflepuff?_

"Hello-o?" The musical voice tried valiantly to sound flippantly casual. "I'm a Ravenclaw, remember?"

"Still. Basically, you're really, _really _nice. And you hate the _Marauders_?"

The voice now sounded nonchalantly bored. "Well duh. They're nothing more than pathetic worms with blown-up egos."

Remus's eyes widened further. His eyebrows rose high enough to reach his hairline. _Who is this girl?_

"Wait a minute…." The chirpy voice from earlier now sounded totally, completely befuddled. "You mean to say that….that…you hate even _Sirius Black_?" The voice was filled with indignation…..and awe.

"That pasty-faced git?"

The voices gasped. Somewhere at the back of his head, Remus felt a tiny bit of anger seeping into his mind at someone who dared to speak that about his best friend and brother, flaws or no flaws.

"Sirius Black is nothing else but a spoiled brat. He's dumb, and all he has to speak for him are his looks and his bloodline, nothing else. He says he hates being a Black? Ya right." The musical voice had lost all its charm, the words practically dripping with contempt. "His whole existence revolves around the arrogance of being a Black. He's heartless, and cold, and doesn't give a damn about anyone."

Remus realised two things at the same time.

First, he was going to listen to this conversation, essay or no essay.

Second, he was really, _really _pissed.

_Sirius is __**not **__heartless._

"Do you hate James Potter too?" Montefiore's voice sounded ridiculously hopeful.

"Of course. He might even be worse than that Black." The voice sounded incredulous that someone actually asked that question. "The only things he can see are his broomstick, his pranks, and his ego. In fact, I think that's the only reason he's been chasing after Lily Evans for so long. His ego can't take the fact that someone actually rejected him."

Remus grabbed his quill and stabbed it in the inkpot, then stooped over the parchment in a vain attempt to get back to his essay. But his mind and attention were trapped in the conversation that he had so easily ignored just minutes ago.

_James __**loves **__Lily. He has loved her for years. How can someone call his emotions worthless and false, just like that? She has no __**right **__to judge James._

"But Lupin isn't that bad, is he?" On hearing his own name, Remus's ears pricked up. "I mean, he never teases or makes fun of anyone, and always helps other people."

"Yeah. He's just a poor old soul in a bad crowd." The condescending tone in which the voice said it made Remus's blood boil. His grip tightened over his quill. "I think the only reason why Potter and Black keep him around is…"

"For completing their homework and getting them out of trouble. I mean, look at Potter and Black, and look at Lupin. Why the hell would they want someone like _Lupin_ around? I bet they don't give a bloody shit about him."

The quill snapped.

_How…..how…how… __**dare **__she?_

All of his weaknesses, his insecurities laid bare. Just like that. Because even now, Remus was afraid. Somewhere in a weak corner of his mind, even after seven years, he was afraid that that was the exact reason why James and Sirius kept him around. To do their homework, to get them out of trouble like a good little sidekick while they laughed about him behind his back. He was just a filthy werewolf, why the hell would they want someone like him around? They actually didn't give a shit about him.

And then, Remus felt guilty about even thinking such a thing. James and Sirius were his friends, his best friends, his brothers. They became his friends while they knew about his condition, they kept his secret, they became Animagi to help him during his difficult times. They did care about him. Of course they did.

So, all of Remus's fear, doubts and misgivings drained away. All that was left was a tiny seed of hurt, encased by pure, livid, boiling anger.

Remus was generally a very calm person by nature. He could control himself, hold back, even when people insulted him and spit on his face, he could smile in front of his enemies and call them by their first names, he could even forgive those who despised him just because he was a werewolf. Thus, it was a very surprising thing, that although Remus had not even seen the face of the girl who said those words, he already….hated her.

Suddenly, Remus realised that while he was lost in his thoughts, the library was completely silent. No laughing, no giggling, no bitching. All the girls had left.

"Excuse me? Can I sit here? I needed a book for my Defence essay."

Remus blinked rapidly. All except one.

"Uh…..hel-lo? Can I sit here?"

It was the voice. The one that was the cause of his tightly clenched hands underneath the table.

Quickly, Remus waved his wand unnoticeably under the table and cast a non-verbal spell to make his face nondescript, so that no one could recognize him. He wasn't quite sure why he did it.

Then Remus raised his head from where it was bent over his Defence essay parchment and turned around slowly. Standing just at the entrance of the aisle, was a seventh-year Ravenclaw girl. She had shoulder-length, messy blonde hair, a tanned complexion, wide lips accustomed to smiling and friendly, coffee-coloured eyes that were currently looking at Remus quizzically.

"So? Can I sit here?"

She obviously didn't recognize him, because of the charm. But he definitely recognized her. Samantha Wilson. The epitome of 'nice girl'. Just showed how appearances could be deceptive.

"Sure."


End file.
